Chapter 20
ALEXANDER
Edward stopped his pacing, facing me and gripping the back of the chair.
“You cannot face him.”
“I must, Edward.”
“He will kill you.”
I had told Edward the contents of the journals.
He agreed with me on the fact that Barnett wished me silent.
That Maddie be under his rule once again.
I had no plans on divulging this information to anyone other than Maddie and Edward.
And I knew she would never breathe a word of it, in order to protect her mother’s reputation.
Barnett was not thinking clearly—that was evident to me.
I shook my head. “Surely even in his addled mind, he knows killing me would bring down hardship on him. Jail. Possible hanging.”
Edward leaned forward. “Perhaps to him, that is better than a debtor’s prison—which is where he will end up, given how his funds have vanished.
You did not offer him funds to leave Maddie and depart.
I believe he was certain that you would.
He is grasping at thin air for another way to come up with the coin. ”
I huffed a laugh. “I offered him a solution—an honest one—to purchase Milton Manor. He refused it. He wants blood.” I drummed my fingers on the desktop. “I must carry through with this.”
“No!” A gasp came from behind Edward. Maddie stood in the doorway, grasping the frame, her eyes wide, her face pale. “If he is determined to kill you, you cannot!”
I rose from the chair, making haste toward her. “Hush, Maddie mine. All will be well.” I drew her trembling form into my arms, cursing myself for not making sure the door had shut behind us.
She gripped my waistcoat, staring up at me. “You cannot,” she repeated. “Please, Alexander. Our child.” A sob caught in her throat. “Do not leave me alone again!”
I hastened to reassure her. “I will not.”
I carried her to the large wing chair I liked to sit in, settling her on my lap. “Edward and I will make sure all is well.”
“Of course we will, my lady,” he assured her, his voice firm, although his eyes were filled with doubt.
“I must do this, Maddie—for my honor.”
“I don’t care a whit about that. I know how honorable you are.”
“Your father will label me a coward, and we will be ostracized. You will suffer. Our child will suffer because of my cowardice.”
“He wishes to destroy me.”
“His wishes will be denied.”
I met Edward’s worried gaze over her bent head, stroking along her soft curls gently. How, I did not know, but I had to survive this.
“I will do everything in my power to bring your husband back to you safely,” Edward assured her.
“You saw the state of your father,” I said, tilting up her chin. “He was barely able to stand upright. He does not have the fortitude to hold a pistol straight and shoot me. I doubt he will even try,” I lied. “He will aim for the sky, and we will part ways.”
She didn’t respond, her alarm a living, breathing thing that surrounded us.
I cupped her face. “I will return to you.”
She dropped her head to my shoulder and cried, and I realized nothing would comfort her. We both had to suffer the worry until the morning.
And that made my hate for the baron burn even hotter.
MADELEINE
The hour was late, and I was beyond weary, but there was no hope of sleep tonight.
Curled on my side, I faced the windows that framed the gently twinkling stars of the night sky. It was a sky I had admired many nights before. A sky that had borne witness to the hideousness of the day. A sky that would also bear witness to the wretched spectacle of tomorrow.
If any harm befell Alexander, I didn’t know how I would survive. Even thinking of the possibility of my father hurting him or—God forbid—worse, made my breath freeze in my lungs. It made my stomach churn and ache.
Tears threatened my vision, blurring the brilliance of the silvery stars. I closed my eyes tightly, willing them away. Weeping would solve nothing, and I had already sobbed enough to fill a lake this day.
But I couldn’t banish them. They slipped past my lashes, traveling in hot streaks across my cheeks.
This was all my fault. I had brought the danger upon my husband.
And if anything happened to him, I would own the blame.
My father had come to Wheaton for me, and the only way he could have me was through hurting my husband.
A sob escaped me. I bit my lip, trying to hold in my sorrow.
Alexander was a large, beloved presence at my back.
But he had fallen into a steady slumber after he had slowly, painstakingly made love to me earlier, and I had no wish to wake him.
He would need all the rest he could get to face my father in the duel on the morrow.
“Maddie mine.”
Alexander’s deep voice cut through the silence, laden with caring and concern.
Another sob emerged. He faced possible death in the morning, and it was he who was worried about me.
“Forgive me,” I said.
“For weeping?” He stroked his hand up my spine beneath the bedclothes, warm and reassuring. “Never, my sweet. You are in a delicate condition, and it heightens your emotions.”
I sniffed, eyes fluttering open, as I stared back into the night, wondering how it could be so glorious, so perfect, so calm, when my world was about to be torn apart.
The sky that had been my comfort these past few months had become a traitor.
I longed to claw each star from the black velvet night.
I was furious, and I was terrified. How dare those stars shine so brightly upon my misery?
“Maddie?” Alexander prodded softly, his hand splayed between my shoulder blades.
“I’m not crying because I am with child,” I said quietly. “I’m crying because I am responsible for all this.”
“What?” Gently, he grasped my shoulder, rolling me toward him. “Why should you think you are to blame?”
I was on my back now, gazing up at the ceiling, trying not to dissolve into a new fit of tears. It wasn’t easy. They scalded the backs of my eyes, threatening to pour forth.
“Because I am the reason my father came to Wheaton,” I managed, barely keeping my composure. “You brought me here, you saved me, made me your wife, granted me every happiness, and look at what has happened in return. It is my fault that your life is now in danger.”
“Nonsense.”
“It is hardly nonsense. It’s the truth.” The tears won, escaping my eyes and slipping down my cheeks again. “What is the thanks that you receive for saving me, other than the possibility that you will meet an untimely end at the hands of my father?”
“Look at me, Maddie.”
I couldn’t. I was silently sobbing. I didn’t wish to distress him, but I couldn’t bear to have our precious, fragile happiness shattered. I couldn’t lose him.
“Maddie mine.”
I closed my eyes again, loving the way he said my name, the endearments for me that were his alone. What if this were to be the last night I would ever hear them? The last night I was blessed enough to lie with my husband in our bed?
I choked on my anguish, a wretched sound emerging from me that was scarcely even human.
“My love.” Alexander reached for me then, pulling me into his lean, solid strength.
“None of what has happened is your fault. Not that bastard’s despicable treatment of you, not his appearance here at Wheaton, and not whatever shall happen in the morning.
There is one person who will forever bear the burden upon his soul, and that is Lord Barnett himself. Not you. Never you.”
“What if he shoots you? What if he k-kills you?”
I could scarcely form the words.
“I won’t let him. Have faith in me.”
I buried my face in his neck, breathing deeply of his scent. “I do have faith in you, but I am also scared of losing you.”
“You won’t lose me. You’ll never lose me.
No matter what happens on the morrow, Maddie mine, I am always here.
” He flattened a hand over my chest. “In your heart.” He slid his hand lower, cupping the swell of my belly where our child grew.
“And here, in the life you will soon bring into this world.”
“Our babe needs a father,” I said.
“And so our babe shall have me.” He kissed my crown.
“You must never think that you are at fault. You are, and will forever be, the light of my days and the stars in my night sky. You are the best part of my life, Maddie mine, and I would meet your father at dawn every day until my last to keep you safe and to love you one day more.”
I was weeping again, but it was because of his words. “I love you, Alexander.”
It was a poor declaration compared to his, but it was all I could manage past the emotion constricting my throat.
“And I love you and our babe.” He caressed my belly fondly. “I have every intention of returning to you both and of putting this behind us for good. Now, get some rest, my love. You need your strength for the babe’s sake.”
I wrapped my arms around him. “I will try.”
I knew it would be useless, but Alexander needed sleep far more than I did. I wanted him as well rested as possible when he dueled. I wanted him safe.
“Sleep, Maddie mine,” he murmured, resting his cheek on my head.
But I lay there awake just the same until the faint streaks of light began to fracture the night sky, listening to the steady thrum of my husband’s heart.
ALEXANDER
Dawn was barely breaking when I left my solemn wife in the great hall. The long night had left her bereft of any tears, her pale cheeks and red eyes attesting to her heightened state. “Do not leave this house, Maddie mine. I will not risk you being anywhere near him on this day.”
She didn’t lift her eyes but nodded. I had spoken at length to her, telling her if she were there, I would be distracted and certainly injured, if not killed.
“Come back to me, Alexander,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears.
“I will return to you, my wife. I swear it.”
“I love you,” she added.
I slid my fingers under her chin and kissed her softly. “As I love you.” I laid my other hand on her expanding belly. “And our little one. We have much to look forward to.”
“Please be here to do so.”
I kissed her again. “On my honor.”
I walked away from her, shocked at the dread building inside me.
Terrified I would never again see her lovely countenance.
Hear her voice. Feel the touch of her gentle hands on me or her mouth on mine.
I met Edward’s gaze, his filled with sympathy and worry.
I straightened my shoulders. I was an excellent marksman.
I refused to let Lord Barnett take away the happiness I had found.
I loathed the idea of killing a man, but if it was him or me…
I chose myself. Maddie. Our child.
I chose my life.